The Demons Within Us
by Ocean's Timbre
Summary: "Why is it that Miss Fray has you so upset?" inquired Hodge. All the life and façade of strength seemed to leak out of Jace. He stopped his pacing, frozen, until he sat into the leather armchair before Hodge's desk. Tiredly he rested his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. "Because I can't get her out of my head."


_A/N: Hello readers! Thanks for checking out my story. This is just a fun little one-shot that came out of my brain onto paper. I realize that this will probably seem totally OOC, but I came up with the idea for this one-shot in the middle of my first time reading _The City of Bones_, so I am not too acquainted with the characters yet. Bear with me! In my head, this takes place towards the beginning of _The City of Bones_. Clary has been at The Institute for a short time, and it is probably sometime before they all go to Magnus' party. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, review, and read the author's note at the end! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything from _The City of Bones_ or _The Mortal Instruments Series_. All of that belongs to Cassandra Clare._

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_**The Demons Within Us**_

Rain pattered a steady rhythm throughout the streets of New York City. Water droplets _pinged_ and _plunked_ off rooftops and slid forlornly down windows. The sky was heavy and gray, the moon hidden behind dark clouds. Despite the heavy downpour, New York rang with the sounds of night life. Neon signs glowed and buzzed, their lights refracting off the wet pavement. Cars honked, irritated in the slow traffic. Music blared from bars and people walked under large umbrellas. Just the sights and sounds of a typical New York night. However, with a particularly bright crack of lightning or maybe through some perceptive eye sight, one may see an old and regal gothic cathedral through the gloom. Usually hidden from the average human eye, the glamoured cathedral stretched toward the sky, black against its gray.

At present, Hodge Starkweather was residing in the library of this particular cathedral. The library was quite something. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves full of dusty, leather bound tomes. Knick knacks and other artifacts littered the room, as did a great many globes. Next to Hodge was a large, jet black bird. Hugo the raven was sound asleep on his perch, beak tucked underneath his wing. With a book and drink in hand, Hodge's feet were propped up against his desk, his tweed suit remarkably crisp as he sat back comfortably in his leather chair. Marking his place with a pressed leaf between the thick white pages, Hodge gently set the book down, taking a moment to revel in the rare quiet. He began to trace the designs the rain had made on one of the large windows with his eyes when all of a sudden, the double doors to the library burst open with a loud _bang_. Hugo ruffled his feathers and squawked indignantly.

Inside, the loud sound surprised Hodge greatly, almost causing him to jump out of his chair. However, he kept his face smooth, expressing mild interest. He sighed. He knew the quiet couldn't last forever. Underneath bushy brows, he was now observing the person who had rudely interrupted him. It was none other than Jace Wayland. Jace still stood in the doorway, and Hodge was slightly taken aback by his appearance. Jace's chin length white-blond hair was swept haphazardly away from his face, as if he had run his fingers through it many times. His angular features were white, his high cheekbones slightly flushed. His amber eyes were overly bright and his thin eyebrows were perched high on his face. Hodge noticed that Jace still wore his day clothes, a black t-shirt covered in a black button down vest. He wore dark jeans and shoes as well, despite the lateness of the hour. All the other residents of The Institute were asleep, Hodge knew. Hodge also saw the barely noticeable thin white scars peeking out from Jace's shirt collar and sleeves. They looked unusually white now against his flushed skin.

Breathing hard as if he had just run a marathon, Jace strode confidently into the room to Hodge's desk, as if he were the authority figure. Hodge leaned further back into his chair, smiling kindly at Jace. Despite how everything about the young man exuded independence, strength, and impenetrability, Hodge saw the vulnerability in his amber eyes. Something was bothering the young man.

"What can I do for you, my boy?" He asked gently, steepleing his fingers underneath his scraggly chin.

Jace leaned forward, his hands on the desk. Inhaling, the boy looked as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. He began to pace the library, opening his mouth every so often, but once again at a loss for words. Hodge, ever patient, smiled and swirled his drink gently, the ice making a _tinkling_ noise as it struck the glass. Finally, Hugo let out a loud squawk at Jace, still slightly miffed at being woken up. Jace, throwing his hands up into the air and caution to the winds, strode quickly up to Hodge's desk once more.

Leaning forward and splaying long, white fingers onto the desk, Jace began to speak, his voice hot and passionate, though not loud. Hair fell across his eyes, his face inches from Hodge's. "She's reckless, stupidly brave, always getting into trouble, acts without thinking, doesn't listen!—

Hodge broke him off. "Of whom are we speaking of, may I ask?" he inquired, speaking gently.

"_Clary Fray_, of course!" Said Jace, emphasizing her name, his tone a mixture of hatred, confusion, and something else. Backing away from the desk, he began to pace again.

"Ah," deadpanned Hodge, a knowing light entering his eyes. "Why is it that Miss Fray has you so upset?"

At Hodge's question, all the life and façade of strength seemed to leak out of Jace. He stopped his pacing, frozen, until he sat into the leather armchair before Hodge's desk. Tiredly he rested his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. "Because I can't get her out of my head," he rasped, voice thin.

Hodge heard the boy loud and clear though, and was slightly taken aback. He had never seen Jace this vulnerable before, and he rarely burst into his study in the dead of night. For him to let his guard down and speak to Hodge so openly like this was unusual.

"Go on," said Hodge, quietly urging the young man. Picking up one of Hugo's molted feathers and twirling it around, he kept his eyes averted from Jace's anguished face.

Jace sighed. He let his hair fall across his face, acting as a curtain, his eyes seemingly staring through the floor. His hands griped the arms of the chair, white knuckled. "I dream about her. Every time I close my eyes, blink, even, I see her face." Jace's tone held no emotion in it, his eyes empty. "And I can't help but worry about her."

At this statement, Jace rose to his feet again, his temper rising. "It's as if she goes _looking_ for trouble! She doesn't listen to me, and she's reckless, stupidly brave, acts without thinking—

This time Jace caught himself, realizing he was repeating his earlier rant. He strode back to the leather chair opposite Hodge, seating himself at the very edge of it, his eyes slightly bulging.

"Clary is all those things, and I can't stand her sometimes! It's as if she really _knows_ me! And I don't know if I want her to know _all_ of me!" Jace said, twisting his ring around and around his finger absentmindedly. He seemed to stare at something only he could see, and his gaze softened, as did his voice, though it held the same passion.

"But she's also selfless, and brave, and funny. She's smart and witty and strong. She's not particularly kind, but she's sensitive." Jace, his mood changing drastically again, leaned back in his chair as if exhausted. To Hodge, Jace looked like he had aged ten years.

His voice speeding up and slightly gruff, Jace continued. "She's also beautiful, but I don't know why. She's average looking, yet I can't look at any other girls anymore. Maybe it's because she doesn't know she's beautiful. But she should be told _every day_ that she is. _I_ want to tell her."

Jace paused a moment, blushing slightly at admitting he thought her attractive. Finally returning his gaze to Hodge, Jace spoke in all seriousness. "Clary is _good_ Hodge. She's everything I'm not. I _hate_ her for that. But I also feel something _else_, and I don't know what it is, but its driving me _mad_." At this, Jace tugged at his hair, his expression that of a drowning man. His eyes seemed empty yet burning.

Through the young man's whole monologue, Hodge had remained patiently silent, lending his ear to the tormented boy. Hodge could tell that Jace was being torn apart inside. Standing up, Hodge strode across the room, his back towards Jace. After the momentary sounds of clinking glasses and pouring liquid, Hodge returned to Jace.

"Have a drink," he said, holding the crystalline glass full of amber liquid out to Jace, "you'll feel better." Staring at it for a moment, Jace took it wordlessly as Hodge then resumed his seat behind his desk. They sat in silence, listening to the rolling thunder and pit-patter of rain as Jace nursed his drink.

Finally, after digesting all that he had heard, Hodge broke the silence. "It sounds to me, my boy, like you are suffering from demons of your own."

Jace leapt to his feet, thin brows narrowed, making his face look sharp. "Are you saying that I'm _possessed_ or—

Hodge broke Jace off once again. "I am not referring to the type of demons that you hunt down with such a passion and talent. I am referring to _other_ types of demons. The ones in _here_," said Hodge, pointing to Jace's heart.

Looking confused, Jace resumed his seat. "What do you mean?"

Hodge sighed, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk. "We all suffer from our own kinds of demons, Jace; our own personal hell. The tormentors of the heart, mind, and soul are sometimes the hardest to defeat and overcome."

They sat in another bout of silence as Jace took in Hodge's words, his mouth set in a grim line. Hodge was again the one to break the silence.

"I'm not one to tell you how you feel, Jace. I am not your father. More importantly, nor am I _you_. Your feelings are for you to figure out on your own. However, I believe that you already know what you're feeling, deep down."

Jace sat there, still as a statue and as silent as the dead. Hodge continued. "And I can tell you two things. Firstly, that your description of Miss Fray was quite apt. You are right. With all her flaws she is a good and beautiful and wonderful person. But that doesn't mean that you _aren't_."

At this, a strange light entered Jace's eyes, a mixture of fear and disgust and something else. "I feel…love." he said, letting the word hang in the air. "But I _can't_ be in love!" he said, his tone venomous, "How can I love and hate one person at the same time? And my father always said—

"_That to love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed_, yes I know what your father used to say. But maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Again, Jace looked torn, taking a sip from his drink. Hodge continued, "Love is not a weakness Jace, but a _strength_. Ever since Miss Fray arrived here, I've seen her work wonders. She brings out the _good_ in you Jace, not the bad."

Suddenly, a large boom of thunder sounded and a crack of purple lightning illuminated the room. Jace jumped to his feet. Handing Hodge his empty glass, he flashed him a quick, albeit tired, smile at Hodge. It was a smile none the less. "Thanks Hodge, for everything. You've given me a lot to think about."

Rising up from his leather chair and walking around his desk, Hodge lead Jace to the door of his study. "Not a problem, my boy, anytime. Remember, trust your instincts. I'm sure you'll figure it out in the end. Now, I think it's high time that we both got some sleep, agreed?"

Jace gave another tired smile and a slight nod, walking out the double oaken doors and shutting them softly behind him.

_**End**_

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_A/N: So, what did you all think? Again, let me reiterate. I'm sure that this seemed very OOC. However, when I wrote this "deleted scene" if you will, I did not know that Hodge was evil, nor did I know that Jace and Clary would find out that they were "siblings". At the time, I felt as if Jace viewed Hodge as a sort of favorite uncle. I also wanted to show a vulnerable side of Jace, one readers do not get to see often. Jace fears weakness, and he already felt weak confiding in Hodge. He views dependence on other people as a weakness too. He's also afraid of not knowing what he's feeling, and that eats away at him so much that he chooses to talk to Hodge. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, and please review!_


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